The Ghost's Bomb
by OceanSparks
Summary: This is a tag to MacGyver 2016 3x8. "I built this bomb especially for you MacGyver. You can't disarm it." Mac is trapped in an underground storage room with a highly sensitive and powerful bomb placed there by the Ghost. While Mac is trapped, the rest of his team scrambles to find him before the times ticks out.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first fanfic so any constructive criticism would be helpful! This is a tag to the latest MacGyver episode: Revenge+Catacombs+Le Fantome, Season 3, Episode 8. I wasn't happy with the level of Mac-Whump so I decided to make this little fanfic to add some more angst and of course, more whump! Oh and also some protective Jack because who can resist!**

 **I hope you enjoy!**

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"I designed this bomb just for you MacGyver. You can't disarm it." The voice echoed around the tiny stone room, resonating throughout the chamber.

"Stop playing your mind games! There are thousands of innocent people who will die if this goes off." Mac glared at the cloaked man across the room, then shifted his focus back to the huge bomb, already trying to analyze how to disarm it.

"Since when have I cared about innocent lives, MacGyver?" The Ghost laughed under his breath. "It will be such a pleasure to see you try to disarm this. I built is especially for you. You pushed me to new limits when you always disarm my bombs. I had to grow; I had to evolve. So you can die knowing you made me better." With that final order, the Ghost pressed the trigger and armed the device, then with a flap of his cloak, he was gone with the door locked behind him.

'No, wait!" yelled MacGyver at the metal door. He began to walk towards the only entrance to the room, the realized the Ghost was gone, and he needed to disarm the bomb.

Mac began circling the huge bomb, his fingertips already searching every surface for a flap to expose the inner working of the device. He found nothing. _The only way to get to the bomb itself must be through the bottom,_ concluded Mac after hurriedly searching the huge block several times.

He hazarded a glance at the detonation timer. _Only five minutes!_ Panic began to seep into the corners of his normally calm mind, his heart beating faster as he realized the amount of time he had not only to get to the bomb, but also to disarm it.

Mac tried to carefully tip it over, but he soon discovered the cube was much too heavy to even budge. _It must be some sort of uranium alloy. That's the only way it could be even remotely this heavy._

Quickly glancing around the small room, he spotted a length of rope and some tarp. Mac jumped up, the seconds ticking away in his head, urging him into action. He grabbed the coil of rope and the tarp, already formulating how to secure the tarp to the block and lift it using the rope.

Mac looked around for any place to secure the rope to lift the block. His eyes fell upon many beams crisscrossing the ceiling. _A pulley system! If I use the beams in the ceiling and the pipes on the floor, I could possibly….just maybe I can lift this thing._

An idea now in play, Mac got to work. He searched the room to find a moderately sized rock broken off from one of the walls. He ran over to it and tied it to one end of the rope. Hefting the rope and rock, he swung over the beams in the ceiling then looped it under the pipes on the floor. Repeating this process, he created a pulley system that would effectively reduce the weight of the bomb exponentially. After securing the tarp to the bomb, he tied the rope to the tarp and took a deep breath. This was going to be tricky.

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"Come on Riley, there must be something, _anything_ , on those catacomb blueprints we can use to find Mac!" Bozer's incessant voice penetrated the haze of Riley's concentration.

Riley pivoted from her laptop and turned to face her partner. "Will you just be quiet Boze!? I'm doing everything I possibly can so _please_ , just let me work!" She turned back to her screen, her fingertips playing across the keyboard.

Riley paused, then sighed, "Here's where the explosion was." She pointed to a dot on her screen. "But since the Ghost moved Mac, we have no way of tracking him, no way to find him except for physically searching. And there's hundreds of miles of tunnels so even that is out of the question. I'm just hoping that the Ghost will try to record him like he does for most of his bombs, and transmits the recording somewhere so I can pinpoint it. Right now that's our only lead."

A ringing noise startled them both. Bozer's hand jumped to his pocket. He looked at the screen, then audibly gulped. He glanced at Riley, then mouthed ' _Jack_ '.

Riley pursed her lips, then gestured for Bozer to answer.

"Uh, hi Jack! How are you? Did your mission go well?" Bozer's voice was raised at least an octave, and Riley groaned, knowing Jack would sense something was wrong.

"Well uhhh, Mac's not here right now, but you can probably talk to him later….What? I don't know why he wouldn't be answering his phone. That's strange too...Well, see, I'm not entirely sure where he is right now….. The Ghost kinda got him…" Suddenly Bozer cringed, and Riley could hear Jack yelling through the other side.

Bozer shot her an apologetic glance, then thrust the phone into her hand and shot out of sight. Sighing, Riley put the phone to her ear. "—DO YOU MEAN THE GHOST HAS MAC?! HOW DID YOU LET THAT MANIAC GET MY BOY?! I swear if you don't tell me you have something to track him down I'm going to fly over there right now. Heck, I'm coming over RIGHT NOW! Where's Matty? I need her to book me a flight! Honestly, I leave him for a few days and he gets himself abducted by a guy who likes to blow things up even more than he does and is probably hurting him right now! Wait…why didn't you tell me earlier? I can't believe you didn't tell me sooner! I could have been with you helping to find him!"

Then Jack seemed to notice that he wasn't doing any good ranting and concern leaked its way into his voice. "Boze? Hello?"

Riley took a deep breath and answered. "It's me Jack, Riley. Right now we're doing all we can to find him so don't worry, okay?"

Jack sighed, "Okay, but I'm still flying over as soon as I can."

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Mac stepped back and took a shaky breath as he surveyed his handiwork. It looked rough, but it would have to do.

He began heaving on the rope. And now becausee the weight of the box was significantly reduced by the pulley system, the box began slowly inching up.

Grunting with effort, Mac finally managed to lift the box high enough for him to slip under. He tied the rope to an iron hook on the wall, then dashed to the suspended bomb.

Pulling himself under the giant dangling box, Mac felt a cold pressure beginning to form within the pit of his stomach. There was no way he could disarm this bomb with only a minute and a half left! He took in the components. There was an extremely complicated and sensitive trigger, and enough explosives to level at least five city blocks.

Mac felt his hands galvanized into action as he thought of all those innocent people who would lose their lives if he didn't disarm this bomb.

He didn't see any way to completely stop the bomb from exploding, but he could see a tiny design flaw that would allow him to separate most of the explosives from the trigger. He pulled out his pocketknife and snipped the tiny metal strip.

A camera flashed and the Ghost's voice issued out from a tiny speaker. "I'm honestly disappointed in you MacGyver! I thought you would have at least seen the failsafe for that 'design flaw'. You should know by now that I'm not incompetent enough to leave a flaw _that_ noticeable. Even though the bomb is not as powerful now, you won't leave the room alive."

Mac's blue eyes closed in disbelief, and he was glad that his old mentor wasn't there to see his rookie mistake. Then he jumped in surprise as he felt a growing heat on his skin. The bomb casing was heating up abnormally fast That was what the Ghost must have meant when he mentioned a failsafe.. But after a few seconds of trying to see what was heating up the box, Mac realized it was getting dangerously hot.

Mac heard a slight bubbling noise and he frantically looked up as the tarp began to melt off of the box. The huge box slipped closer and closer to Mac's frozen form laid underneath. Then the tarp slid off entirely and, with a sickening lurch, the bomb box fell onto Mac.

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"Hey, I think I have something!" Riley yelled over her shoulder. She heard Bozer run up behind her. "I have a transmission coming out of one of the chambers in the catacomb!" Her fingers flew over the keyboard, seeming to be a blur as they typed frantically. A file appeared onscreen and she clicked it.

Bozer gasped as an image of Mac appeared. The blonde agent looked shocked, and there were many wires between the camera and Mac. "That's definitely Mac! Can you trace it?"

"Already on it Boze." A few moment passed as the two agents hovered around the laptop. "There! I got it! He's in a… storage room under the safehouse!"

"I'll call for backup, then let Jack know so he doesn't come in like an angry grizzly gear."

"Good idea"

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 **Sorry for the cliffhanger :) If I get good reviews then I guess I'll have to write another chapter!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi again! Sorry for making you wait so long for this next chapter, but I had a little bit of writers block.**

 **And since I forgot to do this last chapter: These characters are not mine nor do I profit from them (no matter how much I wish they were!)**

 **So without further ado...**

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Mac watched in horror as the burning bomb seemed to come down on him in slow motion. Then his instincts kicked in and he rolled out of the way. Three of the corners hit the floor with a loud clang. Then Mac's eyes bulged and he yelled in pain as the fourth and final corner came down on his thigh. Unbalanced, the box tipped over onto its side.

Mac lay gasping in agony, reeling from the inferno of pain in his left thigh. The bone was broken at best, but considering the weight of the box, shattered was much more likely. And on top of all of that, it was badly burned due to the heat from the failsafe mechanism.

A voice made its way through the haze of pain that clouded his mind. _Focus on what can kill you now_.

Mac forced himself to concentrate on the voice, not on the amount of pain he was in. Somehow he managed to form a coherent thought. _The bomb. The bomb can kill me now._ The timer was still ticking.

 _Time to make one of your genius contraptions now to save us._ This time it was Jack's voice echoing in his head.

The heat. The heat was unbearable. The heat of the bomb, the heat in his leg. The heat was all he could think of. _Then use the heat_. _If that's all you can think of then the use the heat to your advantage._

But the room. He had to get out of the room. But it was locked. _Then get rid of the lock_.

Use the heat and get rid of the lock. _Use the heat_ toget rid _of the lock_. Heat could melt the lock.

With a sort of a plan now, Mac began to focus more. He had to somehow conduct the heat to the lock. As was his habit, he glanced around for anything he could use. He saw the pipes he had used for the pulley system that were more or less pried up from the weight of the box.

Mac pulled himself over to the pipes, then used his pocketknife to remove the screws still bolting the pipe down. Relying solely on his arms to move the pipe, he shifted it to where it was touching the upturned bomb at one end, and completely encasing the lock at the other side.

After watching valuable seconds tick away on the clock, Mac lifted his good leg and kicked at the pipe. It flew across the room, taking the heat-weakened lock with it. Desperate, Mac dragged himself across the stone floor, his injured thigh screaming in agony with every movement.

Finally, sweat dripping down his face, Mac reached the door. He managed to pry it open with the blade of his pocketknife. He moaned in agony as he managed to drag himself through the door and shut it behind him.

Not a second too soon, a huge blast echoed down the corridor. A shockwave followed, lifting Mac off of his feet and slamming him into a wall some twenty feet from where he stood.

Mac felt blinding pain, and then all was blissfully black.

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Jack was out of his seat the moment the Phoenix jet was touched down. He stopped only to grab his work bag, knowing he could come back for the rest later. He was already down the ladder before the pilot could spout any jargon about safety procedures. Since when had Jack cared about safety procedures when his Mac was in danger?!

He called a cab to get to the coordinates Riley had sent him. When he arrived where they had set up in the back of a van, he immediately sought out Riley and Bozer.

"Have you found him yet?" was the first he spoke? The words were etched with concern, but his face was deadly calm.

"Not yet, but we think we have a location. Matty told us you were almost here so we decided to wait for you." Riley looked at Jack. "But we have reason to believe the Ghost has him locked in a secure underground room with a huge bomb."

"What?" The voice that came from Jack was laced with traces of anger, disgust, but above all, concern. "How long has he been down there?"

"Since we got the picture, only a minute or two. But maybe an hour or two before that."

Jack was already strapping on his gun and several different tools. "Well let's go get him back."

Riley nodded and began preparing herself.

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The trio stepped through the dank catacomb passages in near palpable silence. The only noise were the footsteps of them and the team of police following them. Riley glanced at her screen again, checking the blueprints.

"I think this is the turn we were looking for." Bozer's voice broke the silence. "Third one on the right."

"Wait," Jack put out an arm to stop the group. "I think I hear something." He paused, "there! Something is moving."

The group cautiously inched closer to the corner, on high alert should something attack.

Something that can only be called a soldier's instinct warned Jack. "GET DOWN!"

The entire party dropped to the floor without hesitation. A split second later a deafening thunderous noise echoed through the passageways followed by a shockwave that would have thrown them off their feet had they not already been on the ground. The ground reverberated for a few more seconds, then Jack deemed it safe to get up.

He ran around the corner, yelling, "Mac! Mac are you there?! Please reply MAC!" Jack stopped short as he came to one more turn, but it was blocked by rubble.

The older agent began frantically digging through the rubble, never stopping calling out for his partner.

The minutes slowly passed by as he kept digging, until finally he unearthed a clump of blond hair.

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"Mac?! Mac can you hear me? Please answer me buddy!"

The words seemed to come from somewhere outside. He tried to go back to sleep, to go back to that peaceful darkness. But something was wrong, something important was wrong. And he knew that voice, that voice was important to him, however far away it may seem.

So he tried to open his eyes.

He saw a concerned face bending over him; calling his name. Jack. That face belonged to Jack! Suddenly everything came back to him, the Ghost, the bomb, _everything_.

Mac tried to sit up, to assess where he was and what had happened after the explosion. But a blinding pain and resistance over his legs and waist had him laying right back down.

"No, no, no, just lay still now Mac, we'll have you outa here in no time." Jack's soothing voice floated over his consciousness. So he listened.

Now Mac could see that he was still mostly trapped under the rubble, and that Jack, Riley, and Bozer, along with a few other people were trying to free him.

As he lay back, he felt once again, a pulsing pain in his head along with pain almost everywhere else, and ignoring the frantic commands of his friends, he drifted off again to the realm of darkness. ….

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A constant beeping noise filtered through the layers of blackness surrounding Mac's mind. It became incessant, entering into his hearing no matter how many times he tried to filter it out. He felt the need to go back to the peacefulness in which he was now surrounded in. But the beeping kept waking him up, kept intruding into his mind.

So he cracked his eyes open, then closed them again to keep out the blinding white light that flooded in. He clenched his fists and tried to curl up in order to shut out all of the stimuli that irritated him. But as he moved, Mac felt a new, previously undetected pain in his thigh, and then in his head. Gasping, he went rigid and stiff.

"Whoa there Mac buddy, it's okay now, you're in the hospital. Just calm down Mac." Jack's voice droned on, and eventually Mac relaxed. He felt calmed enough now to fully open his eyes.

For a moment, all he saw was white. White walls, white ceiling, and white sheets. "Ja-ack" he croaked, his throat dry and like sandpaper.

"Easy there Mac. Doc says you got banged up pretty bad. You have a bad concussion, a few broken ribs, and your left femur is shattered. And the heat from the blast burned your skin in a few places. But you should heal up fine." Jack summarized the extent of Mac's injuries as he handed him a few ice chips to ease his throat.

Mac nodded—as best as he could—and let Jack keep talking. He felt safe enough now to drop back off to sleep.

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 **Again, this is my first story so any feedback is greatly appreciated!**


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